“You sure?”
“What we want is too different.”
“Sometimes that doesn’t matter. For what it’s worth, though, I think you’re right. It’s not doing her any favors, running interference—which doesn’t mean I’m not going reach out to a couple of contacts there and see what I can find out.”
Lucky SOB. Bridger had no magic wands to wave. No magic cape—or plane—to fly him to her side the instant she needed him.
“A strong woman can be damn frustrating, right? Veronica has just about killed herself trying to prove she can handle everything on her own,” Jackson offered.
“So what did you do to convince her to let you in?”
“Not sure I have yet.” Jackson hesitated. “There’s a lot that divides us, too, and I don’t know if I can overcome it. Her roots there are deep.” He exhaled. “Mine aren’t…or I didn’t think so.”
“Penelope’s sure aren’t. And I don’t know if I can live in a city. Even if she wanted me to. The best thing I can do for her is to let her go.” Bridger’s spirits plummeted further.
“You sure about that?”
“I’m not sure about anything except that I’m worried about her.”
“I could fly you to D.C. so you could watch over her.”
He wanted that so badly he could taste it.
But she needed the win, and if she won, she would be gone from his life for good—because yeah, he’d be her friend, but that was a pale shadow of what he was beginning to think he could want with her.
“I’d like to know how things go, if you’d keep me in the loop. The way she and I left it, we’re both pretty clear that what we want is too different. I’m heading out first thing in the morning. Time to return to my world.”
“Give me your cell, and I’ll update you.”
He complied. “Thanks.” Though it would be easier if he could just cut the cord now. Stubbornly, though, hope remained. Whether or not they had even a faint chance, however, she needed her family. “You’re important to her, you know that, right? She still needs you in her life.”
“And I need her, but I don’t think you should give up on her. Nothing’s impossible.”
Princess and the peasant? Not likely. He thanked Jackson and disconnected.
His mind was eased a little…but that was likely all he’d get. Still, at least Jackson would have her back.
Everyone in Sweetgrass would, if she’d let them in.
As for him, well, maybe he’d call Dev Marlowe, who’d located two missing Morning Star Gallagher cousins, then married one of them.
Maybe it was time to see if he still had any family of his own.
Chapter Twelve
As Pen donned her armor in the form of Armani and Louboutins a few days later, she studied her makeup for flaws and considered whether she’d chosen the best suit.
Her mind went back to the surprising conversation she and Jackson had had after Bridger had reached out to her twin.
Jackson had apologized, right off the bat. “I let you down back then, Penny. I don’t expect you to forgive me.”
“You did the best you could.”
“Maybe. I’m trying to figure out the right thing to do now.”
“About what?”
“Pretty much everything. I got blindsided here. I trusted the wrong people. People I started out with. People I was sure—” He sounded shaken. “I’ve got a hell of a mess to clean up, Penny. I could use you.”
“Me? I have a job.”
“Are you sure you want it after this?” She heard a smile in his voice. “I’d pay you better—never mind. We’ll talk about this later.” He hesitated. “I want to meddle, but Bridger told me I couldn’t. He said you had your situation in hand. Do you?”
“Bridger said that?”
“Much as I don’t like keeping hands off—and he likes it even less—I get his point. You’re operating in a tough environment, and everything I know about you says you’re the best, but you won’t stay the best if you let yourself get pushed around or go crying for a big, strong man to save you.”
She’d laughed then.
She only laughed ruefully now. A savior sounded pretty good at the moment. Her stomach was a mass of nerves, and a part of her desperately wanted not to have to face this alone.
Oddly, the face she envisioned beside hers was not her twin’s, however, even if he had a bazillion dollars to use on her behalf.
The face was Bridger’s. But he was a fireman back in Tennessee. And he still wanted Suzy Homemaker.
She was not and would never be.
“Head in the game, Gallagher,” she lectured herself in the mirror. “Focus on the goal.” She was as prepared as she could be in such a short span. She’d slept little, going over her game plan again and again.
She no longer cared about Hugh Rutherford. His Machiavellian wife could have him.
But she’d fought hard to climb her career ladder, and no one was taking that from her.
A half hour later, she met the attorney she’d decided she’d be a fool not to bring along. Gerald Robards had argued before the Supreme Court, had defended numerous very high-profile clients and had an astonishing success rate. She hoped not to need to take this to court, but bringing him here sent a signal.
She meant business. She was not taking this lying down.
I’m going to kick their butts, Bridger, she thought.
Then she tucked him away and donned her very best shark’s smile. “Ready, Gerry?”
“Always. I love the smell of napalm in the morning.”
Pen laughed at the movie quote from Apocalypse Now as the doors to the conference room opened to the sight of the entire management committee looking smug and sure of their power.
Mentally she rubbed her hands together. “Good morning, gentlemen.”
A mere forty-five minutes later, she was strolling down the hall toward the office she’d generously decided not to exchange for a larger one.
“A woman who scents blood in the water and goes after it is seriously hot,” Gerry remarked. “Let me take you to dinner to celebrate.”
She laughed. For a moment she was tempted. She had to move on. Bridger had never been a possibility.
But she wasn’t ready. “How about a raincheck? I need to settle back in and catch up.”
He studied her. “You could have taken them for more. Some would.”
She couldn’t explain why she’d chosen not to focus on revenge. “I don’t want to cripple the firm, just—”
“To own it?” His smile was blinding white, his suit immaculate and expensive, his tie likely cost more than Bridger’s boots.
But he wasn’t the one whose admiration she wanted.
And that man had no place in his life for a woman who scented blood in the water and zeroed in.
“Sure about dinner?” he asked. “Wouldn’t hurt either of us to be seen together. Plus Rutherford could use a reminder of what he gave up.”
She shook her head and clung to a smile no longer so bright. “I don’t know what I was thinking.”
He laughed. Scanned her from head to toe. “I know what he was thinking. That body and those brains, too. Hell of a package, all wrapped in killer nerve.” He stepped closer and kissed her cheek. “Call me.”
She smiled as he left.
Glanced around the office that had been her world for a long time.
Her fingers itched to call Bridger, but that was never going to work, and the sooner she let him go, the better to get back on top of her game.
This was her world. This was where she belonged.
She sank into her chair and spun to look out the window at the Washington Monument.
Bridger came into the firehouse from an eight-mile run.
“Hey—what are you cooking tonight?” Kyle asked.
“Not my night to cook.”
“Dude, check again. You’re up, and I’m getting hungry.” Kyle shook his head. “Sure wish we could airlift some of Ruby’s c
hicken-fried steak. I could eat a mountain of mashed potatoes after my workout.”
Well, hell. He’d been on his way to the gym, but guess that wasn’t happening.
“You hear me? I swear I dream about that food in Sweetgrass.”
Bridger whipped around. “We’re not in Sweetgrass. We’re not gonna be. Drop it.”
Kyle backed off, palms up. “Whoa, my man. What’s got your panties in a twist?”
Bridger stalked out without answering and headed for the showers. Looked as though he would be making a grocery run, like it or not.
He didn’t like much today.
He wondered what was happening in D.C. Had she gotten there yet? How had she been treated? What if she got hurt by those bastards, and he’d pushed her to go—
His cell rang.
He snatched it up without looking. “Penelope?”
“Um…no,” said an unfamiliar female voice. “Bridger? Is that you?”
He frowned. “Who is this?”
A deep inhalation, then a rush of words. “Dev Marlowe told me he’d call you first, but I just couldn’t wait. He just left here and I—”
Bridger’s heart thundered. It had only been three days since he’d spoken with Dev.
“—did you hear—are you—is it okay?”
He tuned back in. “Kathleen?”
“No,” said a voice that sounded so much like their mother’s. “It’s Molly.”
Molly. His knees wanted to give way. “Molly…it’s really you?”
“It’s me—oh, Bridger, we thought—I thought—” Her voice was full of tears. “We didn’t think you wanted to see us after—Bridger, you saved our lives but they took you away, and after the beatings you took for us and what you must have seen—”
“I…” He squeezed his eyes shut. “I did want to see you,” he managed. “I tried to get custody but they—” He had to clear his throat. “They said I was too young. That you’d be better off. That I needed to leave you alone so you’d adjust better. Put it all behind you.” He’d never been so scared, even in combat, as he was now, asking this question. “Were you…okay?”
If she’d had a bad life, he didn’t know what he’d—
“They’re really nice, Mama and Daddy—um, I mean, the people who adopted me. Very good people. I…love them.”
Thank God. “Only you? Not Nathan or—”
“No one would take all three of us. Someone took me first. Because I was little, I guess. Dev says you’re in Tennessee?”
He nodded. Exhaled. Only one of his siblings found, but this was so much more than he’d ever expected.
“Where are you, Molly? You’re, what, twenty-eight now? Just had a birthday?” Wow. She was still a little girl in his head.
“You remember my birthday?” Her voice was full of tears.
“I remember everything. How you had that stuffed dog you took everywhere. Lovey.”
A watery laugh. “Lovey, yes. I still have him. You gave him to me, Bridger. You won him for me at the carnival that time.” Her voice went quiet. “That was a good day.”
It was hard to remember that there had been some of those. All he could see when he looked back was the fear. The blood. His mother lying there…
Molly spoke again. “I couldn’t…I didn’t want to forget. You were my hero, Bridger. You still are.”
He bowed his head. Pinched the bridge of his nose. A hero didn’t leave his family behind.
“Bridger? Are you still there?”
He had one of them back now, even if he hadn’t been the one to find her. At least for this moment, he had family again…
The rush of love choked him.
He had to get a grip. “Where are you, Molly? What are you doing now?”
“I’m in Chicago. I’m halfway through my residency in OB/GYN.”
A doctor. Little Molly was a doctor. “Wow. I’m impressed.”
“I’m more impressed, big brother. Dev wouldn’t tell me a lot because he said it was your story to pass along, but…a SEAL? And now a firefighter? Plus he says you have medical training, too.”
“I was the squad’s medic, and I’ve got paramedic certification.”
Another watery chuckle. “So we have medicine in common.” She cleared her throat. “Bridger, I want to see you. I want to hug you really badly.”
He closed his eyes. “Molly…you shouldn’t.”
“Why on earth not? I love you. You’re my big brother. And you saved my life. You’re my family—why shouldn’t I want to be with you?”
“I never looked for you.” There, it was out, his most shameful secret.
“And why was that?”
He exhaled. “It’s a long story.”
“I just got off duty. I’ve got some time.”
He didn’t know where to start.
“Tell you what. You can save it until I see you. Now are you coming here or am I going there?”
You’re my family.
He had…family.
Pen wandered her apartment after a very long day back at work. She couldn’t settle, picking up a book and putting it down. Clicking on the TV, then turning it right back off. Opening the freezer for one of her habitual low-cal boxed meals.
She’d turned down a gourmet dinner to be home tonight—but it wasn’t home anymore. Nothing felt comfortable.
She stuck the frozen dinner back in the fridge. She’d change her clothes first. Get comfortable.
But in her bedroom, the first thing she spotted was the red cowboy hat.
Oh, Bridger…
Well, she had to leave him alone—and he hadn’t called, either, so the break was clearly what he wanted.
If she couldn’t talk to him, what she wanted to do was walk over and talk to Ris, take another stupid riding lesson. To cook with Scarlett. She couldn’t pop in to do any of those things now.
But that was okay. She had a ton to do to catch up on her caseload, prepare for a hearing in which she’d testify in December.
Maybe she should get a cat.
What was Bridger doing now? Right now.
What good would calling him do? The second she’d stepped out of the terminal and ridden through downtown traffic, she’d known having him here was impossible. He’d hate every second, even visiting. And living here…?
No way.
She could write him. Tell him what happened. She didn’t dare call because if she heard his voice, she’d be tempted to backslide, and that would do no one any good.
Her phone rang, and her heart skipped. She answered without looking. “Hello?”
“Hey, Penny. How did it go?” Jackson asked. “I’ve been waiting all day to find out. Did you deal them some hurt?”
She dug up a smile. She was glad it was him—she was. “I sure did.”
“I knew you’d pull it off. Tell me everything.”
“Seriously?”
“I’ve operated in boardrooms for a lot of years now. I know the jungle they can be. So start at the top.”
In that moment he was the twin she hadn’t seen since they started high school and it wasn’t cool to hang out with your sister. He asked intelligent questions, he cheered or jeered at all the right spots. He made her feel like a million bucks.
Okay, a hundred.
“What did Bridger say? Was he pumped?”
She sucked in her top lip. “I haven’t called him.”
“You’re kidding, right? Why not?”
“I don’t…there’s nothing to say.” I don’t want to be polite strangers with him.
“When in your life have you ever had nothing to say?”
“You know what I mean.”
“Wasn’t it you who read me the riot act for running out on everyone?”
“I’m not running out.”
“You can lie to me, but you know better. He wants to hear from you, Penny. He wanted to be there. He gave me what for. Got all up in my grille.”
“Seriously?”
“Yeah. The least you can do is
call him.”
“No. I—it wouldn’t lead anywhere. I…can’t.”
“The woman who just brought an entire law firm to its knees is too afraid to call a fireman in Tennessee?”
“Don’t, Jackson.” Despair settled over her like a shroud.
“You’re hurting, I can hear it. What can I do?”
Make everything different. Make me want what Bridger wants. Or vice versa. She sighed. “Tell me what’s going on with you. I don’t want to think about me. So what are you going to do about your company? Is anything better yet?”
“Man, you really don’t want to talk about Bridger, huh?”
“There’s no point. Now spill.”
He exhaled. “I haven’t said a word about this to anyone and I didn’t want to distract you before, but…there’s something I want to tell you.”
He sounded so solemn.
“Are you okay?”
A chuckle. “Blown away is more like it. So…here’s the thing: Ben is my son.”
“What? Wait, what?” But her mind was already racing, thinking about the boy she’d seen. “He’s built like you, isn’t he, tall and lean? David was shorter and stocky.” She blinked. “Wow. Nobody else knows? Are you going to tell them?”
“I want to, just…not yet. I have a lot to figure out.”
“How did you find out?”
“Not from Veronica.” His voice was grim. “That’s taken a few days to get over.”
“You’ve known this for days? And you didn’t say anything?”
“I’ve had my hands a little full, Penny.”
“True. Wow…I have a nephew.” She tried to wrap her mind around it. “He seems like a nice kid.”
“He’s a great kid.” Jackson’s voice, so full of pride, turned harsh. “Not that I had anything to do with it.”
“She should have told you.”
“She had no idea I was even alive, much less where to find me. That’s on me, Penny.”
She considered what it must have been like for Veronica, finding herself pregnant at seventeen. “Her father seemed really mean.”
“He was an abusive bastard. As angry as I was that Veronica kept it from me even after I came back, I can only grieve for the girl who found herself in that position. She had to be scared to death.”
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